


After Class Help

by CrossMyDNA



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Choking, Clothed Sex, Desk Sex, Hand Jobs, Inappropriate Use of Science, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 11:19:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17724185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrossMyDNA/pseuds/CrossMyDNA
Summary: Dr. Kogane is the easiest.Dr. Shirogane takes a bit of persuading, but only a bit.Dr. Garrett, easily the most nervous of the three, takes every trick he has up his sleeve.But in the end, Lance gets exactly what he wants from each of his professors.





	After Class Help

**Author's Note:**

> Lance is 21. Keith and Hunk are in their early 30s and Shiro is in his late 30s. All of this is written to be enthusiastically consensual, though there is some roughness and general lack of communication about what’s going to happen, so tread lightly if that may bother you. Otherwise, enjoy Lance getting nailed by his professors—not a role-play scenario.
> 
> Also, it’s been forever since I’ve taken physics and I’ve never had a geology class, so apologies to anyone who knows more about those topics than I do if things are incorrect.

“Dr. Kogane?” Lance asks, knocking twice on the open doorframe of his physics professor’s office.

Dr. Kogane looks up from his laptop, casually flipping his shoulder-length hair out of his eyes.

“Mr. McClain. Come in.” He nods to the empty chair opposite his desk.

Lance walks into the small, dimly lit office, taking in the wall of shelves overflowing with textbooks, folders, and knick-knacks. The desk is in a similar state of disarray, littered with stacks of stapled papers and notebooks plus various pieces of equipment Lance recognizes from their labs. He sits in the wooden chair offered to him, slinging his backpack onto the floor beside him.

“What can I do for you?” The professor leans back in his chair, elbows resting on the arm rests, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, completely at ease.

Lance, however, is a bundle of nerves. Has been from the moment his last class ended over two hours ago. He can’t get his legs to stop bouncing, and he furiously picks at the skin around his normally meticulous cuticles. After all, it isn’t every day that he visits a professor with the intent of getting fucked within an inch of his life.

He takes a slightly shuddering breath through his nose to steel himself.

“Um, well, I’m having some trouble understanding the material on fluid dynamics,” he starts, thankful that his voice at least sounds steady. “I understand it in lecture and lab when you explain it and do demonstrations and stuff, but then I get back home and try to do the homework and it’s just _wheeeeew_ —totally gone,” he ends with a small laugh.

Dr. Kogane nods slightly, face relaxed, eyes focused and slowly blinking.

“You’ve done well on all the previous material we’ve covered. Is there something in particular about this topic that you don’t understand?”

Lance swallows. Truth be told, he does understand it, but now, sitting only a few feet from his ridiculously attractive professor alone in a dimly lit room instead of in the fluorescent-lighted hell of a lecture hall seems to fry his brain. He can’t for the life of him think of a question to even start with, and fuck, this already isn’t going according to plan.

Good thing he’s always been more of a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. His eyes dart around the room, landing on the old water lines running along the length of the ceiling. Bingo.

“Oh, yeah, for sure, but I guess I just don’t get, like, how to find how fast water’s flowing in a pipe with different size openings.”

Another nod. Dr. Kogane plucks a dry erase marker from the pen-filled mug on his desk and stands in one smooth motion.

“Let’s do an example on the board,” he states simply. He circles around his desk to the small half-whiteboard half-corkboard affixed to the wall next where Lance is sitting. He begins scrawling a diagram of a large pipe tapering off into a smaller one—just as he had done the day before in class—and adds a few arrows.

“Those examples are pretty useful to understand, and at least one problem will be on the final exam, so it’s a good place to start,” he says, not pausing his writing as he speaks. “Let’s say one end of a tapered pipe is 20 centimeters in diameter, and the other end is 5 centimeters.”

Lance moves to stand next to the taller man, the intermittent squeak of the marker over the professor’s low voice strangely emboldening.

Dr. Kogane doesn’t seem to notice he’s moved and continues his impromptu lesson. “If the pressure at the large end is ten thousand Pascals, and only two thousand Pascals at the smaller end—"

“Dr. Kogane?”

He stops writing, turning to Lance with a raised eyebrow.

Now or never.

“I was kind of hoping for a, uh, more _hands-on_ demonstration?”

Lance locks eyes with his professor, heart pounding. He bites his lower lip as the other man’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. If he wasn’t looking so closely for some sign of understanding, Lance would have missed the slight expansion of pupils blacking out dark blue. _There._

Dr. Kogane twirls the marker in his hand and smoothly caps it.

“Why don’t you close the door?” the older man asks, though it doesn’t sound like a question. “I can tell this is going to take a while.”

Lance nods, skin buzzing as he moves to swing the office door shut, accidentally letting it slam a bit too hard into the old frame. He flinches, and before he can turn around with a halfhearted apology, he feels strong hands on his hips and the hard lines of a lithe body press against his back.

“Is this the kind of _demonstration_ you were hoping for, Mr. McClain?” Dr. Kogane asks, breath hot against the back of Lance’s neck. The skin pebbles with goosebumps, and Lance feels dizzy as his blood rushes straight to his cock.

“Yeah—yes,” he answers, already short of breath.

Lance covers the hands on his hips, but in an instant, Dr. Kogane grabs his wrists and pins them against the door, palms flat. Lance gasps at the sting but doesn’t dare move them as the professor’s hands stroke down the lengths of his arms, down his sides, and back to their original place on his hips.

They don’t rest there, though. They slip under his t-shirt, practically burning Lance’s skin as deft fingers roam his chest and blunt nails rake down his sides. Lance lets out the barest of sighs, and Dr. Kogane responds with a sharp pinch to both hardened nipples, eliciting a much louder yelp.

Before he can process that his professor’s hands have moved, his belt is undone and his jeans are unbuttoned.

“Do you remember Bernoulli’s theorem, Mr. McClain?” The slow slide of his zipper is deafening, even over the rushing sound in Lance’s ears.

“Uhh, P one plus rho G H one plus one-half rho— _hah!_ ” Lance’s breath leaves him in one whoosh as he’s pulled out of his jeans and briefs. It’s been far, _far_ too long since anyone else has touched him, let alone someone as hot as Dr. Keith Kogane.

“V one squared,” Dr. Kogane finishes. He wastes no time, gathering the precum leaking from the tip, spreading it along the shaft, and pumping Lance’s cock at a smooth, steady pace. “Equals?”

“ _Fuck_ … uh, all of that but with twos instead of ones,” Lance pants.

“Very good.” His professor’s grip tightens slightly, and Lance is no blushing virgin, but he’s already so fucking hard. “And what does that mean?”

His thump swipes along the ridge under his head, and Lance can hardly breathe, never mind remember what the fuck some dead guy’s theorem means. This is already the hottest thing that has ever happened to him, and judging by the hardness digging into his ass, is far from over.

“I dunno,” he manages.

Dr. Kogane _tsk’_ s disapprovingly, but thankfully doesn’t remove his hand. He hooks his chin over Lance’s shoulder, pressing them impossibly closer together, other hand resuming its earlier exploration of his chest.

“It means that a fluid flowing through a pipe”—he pauses and shifts his grip so Lance’s cock is parallel to the ground—"experiences a trade-off between pressure and velocity.” His voice is silky smooth in his ear, making Lance shiver once more.

“So, they’re in– inversely proportional?” Lance could have kicked himself at the stutter. Not exactly the picture of confidence he wanted to present while getting expertly jerked off by his professor.

“Exactly. So, when the pressure his high,” his grip tightens just to the edge of painful. “Velocity is low,” he finishes, hand moving in torturously slow strokes. And _God_ , it feels so good, but it isn’t enough.

“And when pressure is low?” Lance baits, thrusting his hips back as much as he dares.

Dr. Kogane sinks his teeth into the curve of Lance’s neck, just above his t-shirt, and Lance _whines_.

“Velocity increases.” True to his word, Dr. Kogane loosens his grip but speeds up his hand considerably, the slick noises practically echoing in the otherwise quiet room. Lance didn’t think the light grip would do much for him, but the speed more than makes up for it. He was beginning to suspect that any way his professor touched him would drive him crazy. “Make sense?”

Lance nods furiously, head lolling back onto his professor’s shoulder as heat coils low in his gut. He rocks his hips back into the older man’s and cranes his neck to the side in a silent plea for him to suck more bruises into his neck. He doesn’t disappoint—lips, tongue, and teeth ravishing Lance’s sensitive skin.

“ _Fuck_ , Dr. Kogane, I’m gonna—” Lance pants.

Dr. Kogane releases him and swiftly spins him in place, shoving him against the door and nearly knocking the wind out of him on top of being dazed from being so abruptly ripped away from his impending orgasm. He remembers an offhand comment his professor made one day in lab about having done mixed martial arts his whole life, and Lance suddenly realizes the man is much stronger than he looks. The thought nearly makes him come on the spot.

“You sure? You want our lesson to end here?” Dr. Kogane brings his clean hand under Lance’s jaw, tilting it ever so slightly upward to meet his eyes, challenging.

Lance’s lips part, and a moment later, he shakes his head.

“Good,” Dr. Kogane says, and suddenly his lips crash into Lance’s. He slots his tongue into Lance’s mouth and practically growls when Lance finally regains enough self control to respond and enthusiastically return the kiss. His still exposed cock rubs against the other man’s jeans, creating a maddening friction.

Not long after, Dr. Kogane pulls back, leaving Lance’s chest heaving and lips tingling from the harsh kiss.

“Strip.”

Lance immediately complies, reaching back to pull his t-shirt over his head, not even caring that his hair is left in disarray. He kicks off his shoes and shimmies out of his jeans, losing one sock in the process and reaching down to manually take off the other. He can practically feel his professor’s intense gaze burning into him. He moves to stand at full height, but is instead pushed down onto his knees, and thankfully lands on his small clothes pile rather than the cold ground.

“Beautiful,” Dr. Kogane praises. He unbuckles his own belt with deft fingers and frees his cock from his briefs. Lance licks his lips and salivates at the delicious member in front of him.

A simple raised eyebrow from his professor is all the sign Lance needs. His hands attach to the thin hips like magnets, and he wastes no time wrapping his lips around the tip. He hollows his cheeks and bobs his head, laving his tongue against the delicious vein running along the length. He revels in the quiet hum he hears from above and takes a moment to look up.

Dr. Kogane’s eyes are lidded slightly, a few locks of hair slightly hiding his face. But fuck, he’s gorgeous, and Lance kind of can’t believe this is actually real. And why was it so easy? He feels like it should have been harder to get his professor's cock in his mouth. But, carpe diem, and all that.

Lance brings a hand down to roll Dr. Kogane’s balls gently between his fingers and wraps the other around the base of his shaft. He twists and pumps his hand in time with his mouth and revels in the strain he can feel pulling at the corners of his lips. Lance hears a low groan from above him and sucks harder. He gets maybe a half dozen more strokes in before rough hands are in his hair and he’s being pulled to his feet.

Dr. Kogane’s lips are on his once more, and Lance takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around the other man’s shoulders. While Lance is distracted with the addicting kisses, Dr. Kogane grips the back of his thighs and hoists him up like he weighs nothing. Lance yelps and flings his eyes open, reflexively crossing his ankles and holding on tighter. His professor huffs a laugh and turns around to unceremoniously drop him down onto the desk.

Lance flinches, which earns him a questioning look.

“I… might have come prepared,” Lance says sheepishly, unwrapping his legs.

Dr. Kogane’s eyebrows shoot up. He pulls Lance forward so he’s just barely sitting on the edge of the desk. One hand slides down between his spread thighs and reaches back, finding the flared end of the silicone plug nestled between Lance’s ass cheeks. The reaction is instant. Dr. Kogane lifts both of Lance’s legs and hefts them up onto his shoulders; Lance loses his balance and falls backward, barely catching himself on his arms before he crushes the laptop on the other side of the desk.

“I’m surprised. Half of the time you come to class and forget a pen.”

 “That happened like _twice_!”

Dr. Kogane merely hums in response. He grips the edge of the plug, slowly working it out. Lance’s rim stretches around the widest part and his eyelids flutter closed at the feeling. His professor swiftly pushes it back in then pulls it out, leaving just the tip in. He continues pumping the toy, occasionally twisting it as he speaks.

“And what if I hadn’t been up for this, hmm? Would you have gone back to your dorm and jerked off? Or would you have just found another professor to fuck you?”

Lance is left panting again. He pushes the laptop out of the way so he can lean back fully on the desk to (hopefully) hide his reddening face. Truthfully, he hadn’t actually considered what he would do, but, “The… the second one.”

“I thought so.” Dr. Kogane pushes the plug in _hard_ and grinds it in a circle with his thumb. “And who, exactly, were you planning on asking?”

That’s an easy question, even if he hadn’t been planning on asking anyone else. “Dr. Shirogane or— _fuck, that’s so good_ —or maybe Dr. Garrett.”

“Mmm, both good choices. After I’m done with you, I want you to go to them. Let them use you. _Just. Like. This._ ” He pulls out the plug completely on the last word and sets it to stand upright on the chair Lance was sitting in earlier.

Lance lifts his head—can hardly believe what he just heard. He was already about to get railed by one hot professor, and said professor just advised him to do the same with two of his colleagues? Oh, but that’s such a nice thought. He files it away for later when he’ll have more than two working brain cells to think about it.

Dr. Kogane reaches down and picks up Lance’s backpack, holding it up silently. Lance blushes.

“Front pocket.”

The professor nods, unzipping the small pocket and digging inside to pull out a condom and the bottle of KY Lance had packed earlier. He rips the packet open with his teeth and rolls the condom on, then uncaps the lube and spreads it on himself with a small groan. God, this is really happening.

“Another quiz, Mr. McClain,” Dr. Kogane says as he teases the tip of his cock around Lance’s clenching hole.

“Are you shitting me?”

He ignores the retort. “What force do I need to overcome right now in order to fuck you properly?”

“I don’t…” Lance is baffled, but racks his brain like a dutiful student. “Wait, friction?” he questions.

“Correct.”

Dr. Kogane pushes inside in one swift movement, and Lance _keens_. “Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuckity _fuck_.”

He didn’t feel all that big when Lance was blowing him earlier, but now that he’s inside him, he feels _huge_. Thankfully, Dr. Kogane gives him a moment to adjust. But only a moment. He starts up a languid pace, each thrust sharp and sure to leave bruises on the back of his thighs. He can feel the open zipper biting into his skin, and moans at the fact that he’s completely naked while Dr. Kogane hasn’t so much as removed his button-up—had merely rolled the sleeves up to expose his forearms.

Dear God, Lance is never going to be able to take a physics exam ever again without thinking of this and popping a boner. He should have waited until after finals.

The slow pace is nice. He can’t remember the last time he bottomed with something other than a toy, so this is a much appreciated re-acclimation of the delicious burn and fullness.

After a few minutes, Dr. Kogane picks up the pace and tilts his hips up ever so slightly, and _there._

“ _Hah!_ Shit, right there,” Lance breathes out.

Lance’s entire body spasms as his prostate is assaulted endlessly, and he desperately hopes the many books nearby provide some type of sound-proofing. There would be no mistaking his muffled moans and whimpers if someone walks by. And as hot as that is, for a brief moment, he thinks that maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. Technically, there’s nothing in the school’s ethics handbook that prohibited student-teacher relationships—Lance had checked and then double checked—but it was still frowned upon. They could be found, Dr. Kogane could lose his job, Lance could lose his scholarship—or worse, get kicked out entirely.

His professor must feel the way his whole body tenses, because he slows his thrusts once more to a grind and leans over Lance, practically bending him in half.

“Too much?” he purrs, trailing his hands from Lance’s calves down his legs, stroking in small circles around his hips.

“No, no, no. Just—what if… I mean, what if someone hears? Or walks in? _Shit_ , the door’s not even locked!” Lance craned his neck up to look at his professor. He can just barely see the corner of his lip turn upward.

“My office hours are over.” He pulls his hips back and snaps them forward in a harsh thrust, balls slapping lewdly against Lance’s ass. “There are no evening classes in this building.” Another thrust. “And I locked the door when you were blowing me.” Two more hard thrusts in quick succession, making Lance’s breath punch out both times. “Any more concerns, Mr. McClain?”

“ _Nnng_ ,” Lance keens.

“Good. Flip over.” Dr. Kogane says with a slap to the outside of Lance’s thigh.

Legs shaking, Lance sits up and scoots down the desk until his feet touch the floor. Damn, he needs to up his workout regimen. Lance notes with a tinge of embarrassment that the other man has hardly broken a sweat, even still fully clothed, and Lance can already feel the hair matting to his forehead. He’s not even doing any work, for fuck’s sake. As soon as he’s upright, Dr. Kogane pulls him in by the shoulders and bites his lower lip, sucking it into his mouth like that’s just something that professors do to their students.

“Beautiful,” he pulls back to say before diving back in with a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue.

Lance’s cock jumps at the praise, and he needs him back inside _now._ As much as he’s enjoying the kiss, he rips his mouth away and turns around, bending over the desk with his forearms flat on top of random manila folders.

Dr. Kogane slaps Lance’s ass cheeks with both hands, fingertips digging in roughly and spreading him wide. Lance can feel the cool air on his hole, and he clenches involuntarily. He’s waiting for the push, but it doesn’t come.

Lance moans wantonly and tries to shift his hips back to get some form of contact. He finds it in the form of Dr. Kogane’s thumb first circling his hole, then pressing in ever so slightly and tugging at the rim. Lance’s hands and toes curl at the sensation and at being so _exposed_.

“Look at you. So desperate to be filled.”

Lance unclenches his fists and stretches out, knocking the professor’s nameplate further askew on the desk. It reads _Keith Kogane, Ph.D._ in a professional, serif font—and Lance wants his cock again so badly, so he just—

“ _Keith, please_.” The name feels so foreign on his tongue that he doesn’t even care that he’s just begged to be fucked.

Dr. Kogane inhales sharply and in an instant, Lance knows that he misspoke. Strong fingers wrap around Lance’s throat and yank him up from the desk, back flush with the other man’s chest. He can feel the hard member slotted perfectly between his cheeks, and he sends a quick prayer to the Einstein poster on the wall that he didn’t ruin this completely.

“That’s _doctor_ _Kogane_ to you, Mr. McClain,” he growls in his ear. He pulls back ever so slightly to thrust back inside Lance, fingers clenching tighter around Lance’s throat at the same time, forcing Lance’s scream to come out as nothing more than a hoarse whimper. “I’m still your professor. Just because my cock is in your ass doesn’t mean we’re on a first name basis.”

Lance wheezes, tears pricking at his eyes involuntarily as he nods. The fingers relax. But before he can retort, he’s shoved back down on the desk with a hand covering his mouth and the other pressing firmly between his shoulder blades, pinning him in place as his professor resumes fucking him at a practically inhuman pace.

Lance is a wreck. Dr. Kogane’s cock is so hot and thick and deep and _perfect_ , and he now seems to know exactly how to angle his hips to slam directly into his prostate. The only sounds he can bring himself to make are broken moans and fractions of curse words.

He’s so close for the second time. He moves to jerk himself to orgasm but before he can reach down, his arm is bent back and pinned to his lower back in a strong grip. He’s about to protest, but his professor’s hand wraps around him and in five expert strokes, Lance comes with a cry. It’s the most intense orgasm he’s had in _months_ and he feels electricity radiate from his core through his fingertips and toes.

Dr. Kogane continues fucking him with abandon, coming a mere minute after Lance with a deep groan. He runs his hands along Lance’s back in broad, but surprisingly gentle motions. Lance can feel him softening inside himself—which is kind of weird, but not wholly unwelcome. His professor pulls out with a small pat on Lance’s ass, and Lance doesn’t get up yet, but can hear him pulling off the used condom.

When he manages to stop feeling only pins and needles in his arms and legs—and, let’s be honest, entire body—he pushes himself off the desk, reaching over to grab a tissue on the opposite side of the desk. He wipes himself off quickly, crumpling up the tissue and tossing it into the wastebasket. He takes his professor’s lead and pumps the Purell bottle on the desk before rubbing his hands together.

Lance turns around, leaning back on the edge of the desk that he’s been bent over for the better part of an hour and taking in Dr. Kogane’s re-buttoned jeans and barely disheveled hair. He’s never been ashamed of his body before, but he’d be lying if he didn’t feel a tinge embarrassed at his nudity in front of the highly accomplished physicist.

But the other man just steps forward, cups Lance’s face in his hands, and presses a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I take it you don’t actually need help with any of the material,” Dr. Kogane drolls. “Because I’m still obligated to help you if you do.”

Lance huffs out a short laugh through his nose. “Nah, I’m good.” He resists the urge to run his hands through the soft looking hair, and instead slips away from his professor’s loose hold and gathers his clothes off the ground. “So… you were surprisingly okay with this. This something you do with all your students, or…” he questions.

“Only the ones that so blatantly proposition me,” comes the cool reply.

It doesn’t answer the question, like at all, but Lance decides to let it go. He slips his clothes back on, mildly grossed out that they’ve been on the floor, but hey, that’s what showers and washing machines are for. He wraps the plug in a tissue and sticks it in the front pocket of his backpack to clean later, too.

“So, were you like, actually serious about what you said earlier?” Lance _does_ need to know this.

“Yes, flow rate problems will be on the final exam,” he says, a slight smirk on his lips.

“Obviously. But I meant about… about Dr. Shirogane and Garrett,” Lance says, trailing off at the end.

“I think you need to figure that out for yourself.” Another unhelpful answer. Aren’t scientists supposed to be straight forward with stuff?

“Okay, well I’d _really_ to get plowed by both of them too, but I kinda need to know if they’re the type to go to the Dean about ‘inappropriate student behavior.’”

Dr. Kogane laughs and sits down on his desk, apparently not caring that Lance was just naked on top of it. “Kind of a slut, aren’t you, Mr. McClain?”

Lance feels his heart rate spike, but holds his hands up in defense. “Hey, I know what I like. And this is actually the first time I’ve done something like this.”

“You mean you don’t sleep with all your teachers under the guise of needing tutoring?” Dr. Kogane asks, amused.

“I’m a perfectly competent student, thank you very much.”

“I know you are.” He pauses a moment before continuing, “But I will say that you do have a good shot with both Drs. Shirogane and Garrett if you up your _seduction_ technique a bit. They won’t be as easy to _convince_ as I was.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “You didn’t take _any_ convincing.”

Dr. Kogane holds his hands up, mimicking Lance from a moment earlier. “I know what I like.”

Lance slings his backpack on his shoulder. He shouldn’t push his luck, but he wouldn’t be against making this a normal thing. And preferably somewhere he can be horizontal without notebook bindings pressing into his skin. Hotness factor aside, desks aren’t exactly a comfortable place to get choked and fucked. The thought does make his dick twitch in interest.

“So, uh, any chances of this happening again?”

“You know I have an open-door policy, Mr. McClain.”

“Soooo, is that a yes?” he asks, hopeful.

The older man hums in thought. “Come see me again if you’re successful with Dr. Shirogane and Garret.”

Weird stipulation, but Lance grins. “Deal.”

He salutes briefly before slinking out the door, a spring in his step despite the dull ache he can feel.

He’s got work to do.

 


End file.
